“What would you do if I returned your dagger to you?” Abram asked.

  “Follow you to the end, including into battle against Chedorlaomer.” That was madness, but I owed Abram everything.

  “Battle with Chedorlaomer isn’t my plan,” Abram said.

  I looked around. “Then what are all these warriors doing here?”

  “I’m going to free my nephew and his friends. If Chedorlaomer gets in the way of that, he’ll be swept aside.”

  “Those are bold words.”

  “For a man they are,” Abram said. “For Him Most High they are easy. I’ve learned to trust God, to be obedient to what He tells me, and to do it His way and not my way.”

  I nodded, understanding little of what he said.

  “I’m going to ask you again, Damon. What will you do if I return you dagger?”

  “Stand by you and keep anyone from slaying you. I want to do the opposite of what the Minotaur sent me to do. I would preserve your life even at the expense of my own.” I grinned, surprised by my words, although I meant them. “Because of you, I’ve tasted freedom again. I hadn’t realized my mind and spirit were bound to the Minotaur and the wickedness of Minos and his wizards.”

  Abram studied me as we walked together.

  “Abram,” Eschol said, “Don’t trust him. He’s a spy and assassin. Kill him and be done with it.”

  Abram didn’t reply, but waved Eschol away and shook his head.

  “I believe you, Damon,” Abram said.

  He motioned to a man, who came forward. The man unwound cloth and revealed my dagger of the fallen star. The man proffered it to me, hilt first.

  I grasped the hilt and waited a moment to feel the power of the Minotaur. It wasn’t there. I was free from his vile influence. I laughed with joy.

  Abram smiled. “Damon will join us. He will remain near me though not always beside me. I’ll ask him when the time comes whether I should attack that party or this party or what he thinks the kings of the East will do. For now, though, you’ll stay with those men.” Abram pointed them out. “They’ll make sure you have enough to eat. All I ask is that you keep up with us. We’re moving swiftly. I intend to rescue Lot before Chedorlaomer leaves the land of Canaan.”

  “Yes, Abram,” I said.

  Abram strode away to speak with others.

  I continued to think about our task. Was it a joke? A handful of shepherds and armed retainers chased the great Chedorlaomer. Did the conqueror even know we raced after him? Would he care?

  Whether Chedorlaomer did or not, we followed. The pursuit had begun. Would Abram’s words prove prophetic or mad? I didn’t think of him as a madman, but I’d never seen his like. What’s more, my admiration for Abram grew as we chased after the kings of the East.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Our party one thousand strong pursued Chedorlaomer’s host of at least five thousand soldiers from Elam, Shinar, Ellasar and other lands of the East. They had at least five soldiers for our every one of ours and yet we pursued them.

  It was exhilarating to be with such motivated warriors and it was terrifying as Abram propelled us through his reckless confidence.

  Him Most High—the men believed Abram about God. They trusted him and spoke how God had worked on Abram’s behalf before. Surely, Him Most High would do so again.

  As we pursued, we didn’t need to turn to the left or the right to buy or steal supplies. Each noon we stopped and ate from our provisions of biscuits and dried fruit. We drank and then continued until the stars shined in the sky.

  We toiled after the great host. Soon enough we saw human refuse and other litter. It told us exactly where to go, as Chedorlaomer and his host made no pains to disguise their route. With such a great train of captives, it was impossible to hide the route.

  The villages we passed were empty. The people had surely fled the coming of the king of the East. If they hadn’t, perhaps they’d joined the captive throng.

  Vultures and flocks of crows wheeled in the sky constantly. Jackals and wolves howled day and night.

  Abram urged us to move faster.

  We reached a spot parallel to Lake Gennesaret to the east of us. We could see it shimmering in the distance. Our trail did not lead to the lake, but went beyond it to the north.

  On the fourth day, I managed to work near Abram. “Lord,” I said, “might I ask you a question?”

  Abram beckoned me to join him. I hurried forward, matching his long and relentless stride.

  “How are we going to defeat Chedorlaomer’s great host?” I asked. “He has five soldiers for our one.”

  Abram’s eyes gleamed. “On our own we couldn’t do it.”

  “Exactly,” I said, “Giants and the Sacred Band of Sodom—”

  “Bah!” Abram said, interrupting me. “Don’t speak to me of Sodom and their polluted Sacred Band. We serve the living God. He’ll show us the way.”

  I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure, but seeing and feeling Abram’s certainty and remembering how he’d driven the spirit of the Minotaur from me, I wasn’t going to challenge the patriarch. I would like to know how he planned to do it, though.

  Perhaps Abram saw my wonderment and fear. He clapped me on the back. “We’re fast approaching Chedorlaomer. The signs are clear. This night or the next, I believe we’ll discover the answer to your question.”

  “Don’t you fear the meeting?” I asked.

  Abram became thoughtful. “Once, I would’ve greatly feared. I’ve distrusted Him Most High before, and each time I learned it had been a grave mistake. This time I’m going to wholeheartedly place my trust in Him from the start.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t understand such confidence, such certainty in a god. The Minotaur had hated the acolyte of the strange god. I rubbed my chin. There was something new about Abram’s god and something old. Abram said He was the Creator of heaven and earth. I didn’t really know about such things. I was concerned with the here and now, not with the stories and fables of the past.

  I slept uneasily that night as I realized one thing Abram had said was correct. We’d soon reach Chedorlaomer. Would the armed retainers and Amorites retain their confidence? Could each of us slay five men without losing too many in turn? Perhaps this was all a ruse. What Abram really planned was to sneak in, grab Lot, his wife and children, and slip away.

  I nodded. That made better sense.

  Abram had bolstered morale with his grand talk, but in reality, we’d raid the camp and escape with our lives, if we were lucky.

  The next day, we didn’t stop for our midday lunch but pressed on as Abram led us at a trot. The donkeys trotted as well, switched when they slowed down.

  Then, on the horizon, I saw the rear of the enemy host. Men marched, and there were runners moving leisurely. Didn’t they know we trailed them? Perhaps they believed no one else would dare assault their host after their many victories.

  Abram called a halt. We all dropped to the ground, winded and spent.

  Servants doled out food and water. We ate and drank. Abram allowed us to sleep even though we could have traveled longer.

  Later, as the sun began to set, Abram roused us and told us to gird our loins. We would spy out the enemy. If God favored us, we’d defeat Chedorlaomer this very night.

  That struck me as an impossible boast.

  Still, I gathered my dagger and shield, and took along a few darts. Then, I followed as we set out. Yes, as the sun sank, we headed for the great enemy camp that we couldn’t see from here.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Perhaps an hour after sunset we reached heights above where Chedorlaomer and his host camped.

  Abram beckoned and I crawled to him. We stood and looked down from behind trees into a deep, narrow valley. A road wound through the valley, going from one end to the other. At the bottom sprawled the vast encampment of Chedorlaomer.

  I nodded. The place made sense for a host with endless cattle and slaves. In a valley like that, it would be easier to corral such creatures.

  I glanced at Abram. It was one thing to say he would attack a host five times as large as his own. It was another to see the great number of enemies and still go through with it.

  There were five thousand soldiers and more down there. Chedorlaomer had gained new allies to replace the fallen from the beginning. Then there were throngs of slaves and captives, many wagons filled with loot and all kinds of goods. There were dogs, cattle, sheep, goats and myriads of fowl. The entirely was vaster than any city I’d seen. And we, a mere one thousand, would attack it?

  “Come with me, Damon, and you, too, Eschol. The three of us will slip near their encampment.”

  I wanted to ask why me? I didn’t want to go that close, but I dared not back down or show myself cowardly if Abram trusted me enough to name me.

  I was a warrior of Athens. I’d served Minos and the Minotaur. Now, I’d serve Abram.

  The three of us climbed down a long slope, slipping closer to the encampment. We made our way in the darkness without a torch, but by the light of the stars. For the moon didn’t shine this night. Reaching different trees and bushes, we had to pick our way slowly, blundering, at times.

  Finally, we spied several of Chedorlaomer’s men standing guard, five of them. One held a torch and glanced about. The other four had spread out a blanket to roll dice.

  I squinted. They were bone dice.

  “They argue,” Eschol whispered.

  “The soldiers are rich with spoils,” Abram whispered. “They don’t know what to do with such wealth. Thus, they gamble it away.”

  Abram was right.

  The men gambled freely, no doubt thinking they had an unlimited amount. Had they not looted for the past several months, taking what they wanted from whomever they desired?

  By their quarrelsome ways, it seemed as if enmity has begun to flourish among them. This was a good sign.

  As we watched, three came to blows over the pips showing on the dice. The others had to pull them apart.

  “Follow me,” Abram whispered.

  We slunk away from them and the camp behind, heading back up the long steep slope.

  Halfway to our starting position, Abram halted. “You two wait here. I must go by myself to pray to Him Most High. I need a plan against the quarreling host.”

  Abram slipped away from us.

  I looked at Eschol and he looked at me.

  “Abram has done you a great honor to trust you in his presence,” Eschol said.

  “I agree. I plan to show all of you that I’m grateful. I’ll fight like never before, and I’ll do whatever I must to keep Abram alive.”

  Eschol stared at me. I’m not sure he believed my words.

  Time passed. For me, it seemed too long. Why were we waiting? By the time we returned, it would be daylight again.

  I crouched instead of standing. Eschol soon crouched. We waited and Abram still didn’t return. Eventually we sat, with our backs to trees.

  I began to nod off.

  “Up, up,” said Abram, appearing suddenly from the darkness. “The Lord God has spoken to me. I know what to do. Come with me.”

  His words woke me. I lurched up, blinking sleep from my eyes. Abram pushed Eschol and me. We stumbled up the slope. Soon, Abram scrambled ahead of us, moving like a mountain goat.

  How was this possible? Abram was much older than I. He moved briskly with confidence, as if brimming with vigor.

  I panted by the time we reached our war party.

  Abram called the men together in a great circle. He told them what Him Most High had told him to do. We’d split into three groups, circling the enemy host. We’d attack from different directions even as we blew rams’ horns and revealed our hidden torches. We’d descend upon them and Him Most High would deliver the army of Chedorlaomer into our hands.

  I’ll say this. The plan didn’t falter for a lack of audacity. Could one thousand men sneak up on them? I waited for someone to ask Abram how each of us could slay five lethal soldiers of Chedorlaomer.

  Instead, the men began to divide into groups.

  Eschol clapped my shoulder, saying, “You’ll come with me.”

  I glanced at Abram. He was already busy with other tasks. The others didn’t trust me near Abram during battle, no matter what the patriarch had told me days before. I acquiesced and gathered my belongings, accepting an unlit torch.

  Soon, en masse, we began descending the slope. Our group, led by Eschol, had the farthest to go.

  We toiled without torchlight. Several men carried embers in bronze pots. We followed Eschol, blundering, scrapping against trees, growing weary. We drank most of our water to keep up our spirits. It seemed as if the night would never end. We trudged up a ravine, working to get into position before Abram blew his ram’s horn as signal.

  What if Abram blew the horn too soon? What if we didn’t hear it?

  We continued to trek, a paltry number of soldiers: a measly three hundred.

  At last, Eschol said, “This is the location. Rest now while you can.”

  We did.

  I sat on the ground, counting my darts. I readied my unlit torch. Around me, others did likewise.

  We waited. The stars moved in the night sky. I started to doze—

  A thin note like a ram’s horn blew in the distance. Many shouts seemed to drift from far away.

  “Arise!” Eschol shouted. “Abram has sounded the horn. Light your torches. It’s time for us to descend upon the enemy and rout him as Abram has declared.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  A hot coal touched the oiled end of my torch. It blazed into fire. I waved it back and forth, so the flame blazed even hotter and brighter.

  Then, I followed those already charging down the slope. I didn’t have a horn. It was still too far to yell for the enemy to hear me. So, with the torch, I raced after those ahead. I looked back. Other torchbearers followed me. In a ragged throng, we threaded down the hill. I could hear rams’ horns blow.

  Below in the enemy camp confusion reigned as people shouted, screamed, and ran back and forth.

  I began to sprint and shout as a feeling of giddiness overcame me.

  We were attacking Chedorlaomer. We were attacking the unconquered conqueror, him who had defeated giants, the Sacred Band of Sodom, who’d defeated everyone he attacked.

  Men below stared up at us.

  I yelled louder, hurled a dart as others among us hurled darts. Some struck their targets so Eastern men cried out in agony. We raced at them. I threw another dart and another. Then I had no more. I drew my dagger. I waved my torch back and forth. Others raced beside me. They were Amorites. We charged those who’d defeated everyone in Canaan. In a wild melee, at night, we crashed upon the nearest of them.

  They were a small number at first. We cut them down and kept running, crashing into a larger throng. I slashed to the right, to the left, and stabbed forward. We moved through them, Eastern men falling, yielding, and running away from us in confusion and fear.

  Did some turn elsewhere? Did they see other torches? Perhaps in their minds that meant an enemy commander leading troops against the host of the East. If each torch meant a commander of warriors, that would imply a gigantic host. In these things, what a man thought was often more important than what really was.

  Across a narrow ravine, I saw Abram. He didn’t have a torch, but a sword and dagger. A soldier of Elam stood before him. Abram cried out, stabbed with the dagger. The soldier blocked with a shield. Abram swung the sword, cleaving the skull and knocking the soldier to the ground. Abram lifted his bloody sword high. He bellowed a fierce war cry. His armed retainers followed him as they charged into the camp with reckless courage. They ran without any thought of defense but only of attack.

  Emboldened by Abram’s example, I did likewise. I cut down a soldier and drew my bloody dagger from him, gutting yet another man in my way.

  In moments, I witnessed an incredible thing. The great army of Chedorlaomer, the phalanx, the young runners and swordsmen all began to flee in panic. Many dropped weapons as they ran from us into the darkness.

  Confusion, shouts, waving torches, bloody spears, the uncertainty of night all rained like a nightmare against them.

  Surely, before this, they must have believed that they’d beaten all. They must have felt that no one could stand against them. They’d been counting their treasures, deciding over the course of many days how to spend their loot once they got home. Now they faced an avenging army. They had no idea concerning our numbers. Did the greed and distrust that Abram had seen earlier fuel the panic? Did those of Elam cut down those of Shinar and Ellasar in their haste to flee faster?

  Whatever the case, a great panic had set in among Chedorlaomer’s host. They fled into the night, taking the north road, running. Some grabbed what slaves they could. Others jumped on donkeys, hitting them, racing away as fast as they could.

  Soon, the sprawling encampment was ours. We ran to Abram, shouting with glee and praising him, praising his God for what He’d done.

  This was a victory such as I’d never heard of. We thronged around Abram.

  He lifted his short bronze sword. “Men, God has given us the victory. Tonight we begin the pursuit until we’ve freed all whom Chedorlaomer has captured.”

  There in the darkness with our torches, Abram led us, tired and weary, yes, but he led us in the chase. As incredible as it might seem, we began to pursue the broken army of Chedorlaomer the Conqueror.

  Chapter Thirty

  We didn’t sleep but hunted the fleeing soldiers of the East. Soon enough, night turned into morning. We pursued hotly as if filled with a righteous rage. Whenever anyone stopped to face us or ran too slowly, we cut him down.

  Still, their numbers far exceeded ours. Surely, they’d regroup against us somewhere now that it was day, now that the terrors of the night no longer bred horrible panic. What had happened to Chedorlaomer’s brilliance? It might reignite.

  Fortunately, as far as I could tell, the Easterners didn’t regroup but ran, dragging as many prisoners and wagons as loot as they could. They wanted to escape with their spoils.